Back To Life
by HalfASlug
Summary: In the week that followed the Battle of Hogwarts and the death of his brother, Ron Weasley became a shell of his former self. It was up to his friends to bring him back.


_Disclaimer: Tis the season to ward off copyright lawsuits! Fa la la la la, la la la la! J.K Rowling still owns Potter! __ Fa la la la la, la la la la!_

* * *

Hermione couldn't remember the last time that she didn't like being in the same room as him. From that stand point you could believe that it therefore was a good thing that he seemed to be avoiding her, but she hated it. Yes, it was awkward; yes, no one knew what to say or do, but to see him so quiet and reserved… It was possibly the hardest thing of all.

Ron was the light in every dark tunnel, but now he was a dead end.

It could be argued that her climbing up the stairs to his room that afternoon was a selfish act for this reason. She needed him. Someone had to try and bring him back. Harry was doing a great job of keeping him afloat, but something told her that only she could bring him back to shore.

It still took her six whole minutes of dithering and rethinking outside of his room to eventually knock on the door.

There was a long pause before he granted her entry in a despondent voice. Hermione found him lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling, his arms folded behind his head. He didn't even look up to see who was disturbing him.

"Hi."

"Hey."

Hermione noticed that Ron was wearing the same clothes as yesterday.

"Your mother sent me up here," she said, taking another shaky step into the room. "She wanted to know if you had any socks that needed washing as she-"

"Nope."

Ron's response was immediate and blunt as she expected. Even though on the rare occasion that he acknowledged her these days he spoke like this, it was still so unusual for him to be so dismissive that Hermione still felt a little hurt under everything else.

"Are you sure?" she pressed. "Have you checked?"

"She washed them yesterday," he emotionlessly informed the ceiling.

"Well, what if-"

"And the day before."

Hermione closed her mouth and swallowed the lump that seemed ever present at the moment. Being surrounded by grief, she had found it difficult to distinguish between her own and the collective misery of the Weasleys. Showing any kind of upset felt like she was being incredibly insensitive, so she had taken to bottling it all up. The only person she found she could cry in front of was Harry, but he always felt uncomfortable with displays of emotion. This was always Ron's territory.

It was this that kept her rooted to the spot instead of leaving like she had since they had both returned to Devon as undeniably changed people.

"Ron, we're – I – we're still," she stammered. Ron still didn't pay her any attention. "We're still friends, aren't we?"

She hadn't meant it to sound like a plea, but that was how it had come out. Just as she was about to explain herself, Ron slowly blinked and shifted his focus onto her, his eyes darker and more sunken that she could ever remember them being.

"Right," she coughed, taking his slight movement as an affirmative answer, "well, then we should talk."

For his lack of reaction to her words, you could be forgiven for thinking he hadn't heard her. She knew he had though. Four days ago they had kissed for the first time. Four days ago they had said they loved each other. Four days ago they had slept in the same single bed and cried as they tried to hold one another together.

Since then, Ron could barely look her in the eyes. Even now, as she stood in his room, nearly trembling, he was looking at her with the same blank stare he had given the ceiling.

"My brother died," he said, turning away from her. "What else is there to say?"

Feeling braver than she had at any point during the battle that already seemed like a distant memory, she forced her legs to move her to the bed and sit down. For a moment Hermione considered placing a hand on him, but hesitated. His thigh was closest but seemed far too intimate. His chest was safe, but did he even want to be touched? Would it comfort or disgust him? He was so distant that she doubted even that would reach him.

"Well," she croaked, "my friend is dead."

Ron blinked and she wondered if that meant he was listening.

"I know that isn't a brother. I can't even imagine what that must be like, but I still lost my friend."

Her burning eyes finally opened up the floodgates as she forced her words out, not knowing why she was saying them or even what they were going to be.

"He was brave, smart and unique. Even in the absolute worst circumstances he could make me and everyone else around him laugh. He could make anything seem less helpless." She roughly wiped her eyes. "Not many people can do that and-and he made it look effortless."

Ignoring her previous decision, Hermione placed her hand on his leg. She knew she must look a mess with her blotchy eyes and runny nose, but he had seen her look worse.

"I loved him. I will always love him and will never stop missing him," she sobbed. "Just like I miss you."

Finally she broke down and covered her face with her unsteady hands. So much was her distress that she didn't notice the mattress shift until she felt a warm palm against her shoulder blades. Sniffing, she looked to see him sat up, his eyes still lifeless, but, for the first time since she had entered the room, they were on her.

"I'm right here."

"No, you're not." Hermione shook her head, tears still falling.

A muscle in his jaw tensed, but otherwise there was no response from Ron other than his gaze flickering to her lips and back again. The mood didn't so much shift, as freeze. There was no longer discomfort as they both slowly leaned closer together, just an odd pause. Both kept their eyes open as though the other would disappear if they left their sight. After what felt like hours of him ducking, her stretching and both of them jerkily picking a side to tip their heads, their lips finally brushed, setting off a spark.

Soon the spark caught flame as he kissed her in a way she had only previously dreamt of and she gripped his hair holding him in place, wishing this time he would stay.

With jagged breath, they broke apart, but Hermione kept his face close to hers and her eyes closed, dreading what she would see when she opened them. Even though she was deeply worried that she was a terrible kisser and her tears somehow ruined everything, such trivial matters were nothing in comparison to the fear of what she would find in the blue eyes that could normally speak to her from across a room.

Sure enough, when she eventually opened them, she found his stare as empty as when she had arrived. With a sigh, Ron lay back down as if nothing had happened and she took this to mean she had been dismissed. Hermione wanted nothing more than to stay, to lie with him so they could avoid the world together, but couldn't bring herself to. She had thought it could be her who brought his eyes back to life, but she had been wrong.

* * *

When he stepped into the living room, Harry was unsurprised to see Ron there, staring at the chessboard in front of him. If he wasn't in his room or in the kitchen at mealtimes, he was there. Sometimes he wouldn't even be playing.

Ron glanced up and nodded to Harry in greeting.

"What's with the midget?" he asked as Harry sat down across from him.

Harry smiled as he shifted his hold on the baby in his arms.

"Andromeda wanted a word with your mum so I said-"

"I was talking to Teddy."

Ron's cocky smirk was met with a glare as he signalled to his rook to take down the pawn in its path. The two boys watched as Ron silently directed the black pieces in various formations, sometimes shifting the increasingly put-out white pieces to practise different moves.

"Fancy a real challenge?" Harry eventually asked as Teddy gurgle happily.

"Nah," said Ron, "can't I just play you?"

"Someone's on form today," grumbled Harry.

Ron quirked his eyebrows, his upbeat tone evaporating suddenly.

"Well, you know," he muttered, setting up the board, "keep 'em laughing."

And so the game began in a silence only broken by the occasional shriek from the baby. No sound came from the kitchen, leading Harry to suspect a Silencing charm had been cast. He was thankful; he couldn't imagine a more uncomfortable conversation.

As expected, it wasn't long before Ron's black pieces far outnumbered the white ones. Frustrated by his opponent's blank expression, Harry looked to his Queen's side castle and opened his mouth to speak. Before he could however, Teddy's hair turned bright scarlet. Slightly bemused, he reassessed the board and spotted a black knight, waiting to pounce.

"Pawn to F6."

The tiny piece shuffled forward to safety as the opposing knight's horse neighed furiously.

"That's cheating!" howled Ron.

"Are you admitting you were outplayed by a two-month old?"

"Are you admitting you need the help of a two-month old?"

Teddy giggled loudly and tried to take Harry's glasses with his tiny hand. Harry gripped Teddy's arm and gave him a scolding look as Ron chuckled.

"Kid's smarter than his Godfather looks," he jibed. "Pawn to F6."

Harry watched aghast as Ron went on to win the game in three more moves as Teddy seemed to have given up on 'helping' him. The victory wasn't celebrated in the slightest though. In fact, the white queen still hadn't finished berating Harry when Ron had started setting up the next game, that began in the same silence as the first.

"So," Harry began tentatively as few minutes later, "tomorrow."

Ron froze. They both knew what was happening tomorrow and neither of them particularly wanted to talk about it. Harry had made a promise to someone to try at least try though.

"What about tomorrow?" Ron replied, pushing his king.

If he was honest, Harry didn't really know what about tomorrow.

"Erm... Got your dress robes ready and everything?"

"Yeah," shrugged Ron.

"Oh." Harry made a move having no real idea about the consequences. "I was thinking," he continued, "it's a good job we took them off before we went in that cafe after the wedding."

Harry cursed his pathetic excuse for conversation as his reckless move was punished. Other than that, Ron made no response.

"All thanks to Hermione really," he added.

"Yeah, well, she does make a habit of saving us." Ron's tone indicated that he didn't want to talk anymore, but Harry didn't care. Normally he'd leave people to deal with these things on their own, but Hermione was right - this couldn't be left.

"How're things with her?" Harry asked in a quieter voice as Teddy's eyelids had been drooping for a while now. Ron waited for Harry to move, but it soon became apparent it wasn't going to happen any time soon.

"Fine," he grunted.

Harry moved his piece at random and a flicker of irritation went across Ron's face.

"Funny," commented Harry lightly as another white piece was knocked from the board, "haven't really seen you speak to her."

"We're speaking."

"More than one word at a time?"

Teddy shifted in his arms as Ron failed to reply. They both watched his pudgy face as in screwed itself up before unfolding back into the perfect picture of contentment.

"She put you up to this?" The restrained anger was evident in every word.

"No," Harry replied conversationally, "she asked me to talk about tomorrow, but I'd rather talk about this."

"Well, I'd rather you didn't!" snapped Ron.

Harry looked at his friend calmly, unable to stop himself wondering if his fifteen-year-old self had had the same fire burning behind otherwise cold eyes after the events at the ministry.

"She wants to make sure that you're okay," he told Ron as he purposely sent another chess piece to its doom. It didn't seem to mind though; even the little pieces were caught up in the exchange. "Which is nice of her since she really isn't."

Finally there was a flash of concern, but soon it was replaced with mild annoyance once more. Another move was made on the board and Ron sat waiting for Harry's reaction to it.

"She came and found me last night, you know," Harry said nonchalantly. "Seemed to think I might know how you were. She didn't seem upset with you ignoring her, even though she is missing her parents and hasn't worked out how to bring them back yet, just concerned."

"I'm not ignoring her."

"She cried," Harry continued as if there had been no interruption, "a lot actually." He pushed his remaining pawn to the left.

"You know that's an illegal move," Ron growled.

"You know you need to speak to her," Harry countered. "These things happen."

Ron gave him a hard look before storming from the room and slamming the door, waking Teddy up in the process. He started wailing and Harry moved him to his shoulder in an attempt to sooth him. Almost immediately the room was silent again and Harry wished all problems were as easily fixed.

* * *

It was over.

Ron let out the air that he had trapped in his lungs as he first walked down the aisle and tried to take everything in, but couldn't. Everything that he had been keeping out of his head for the past week came rushing back in all at once and, for a moment, he couldn't stand it. The wall exploding echoed in his ears. Fred's final smile loomed into the forefront of his mind and Ron could see the emptiness behind his eyes. He had only got through this week by shutting this stuff out and now it was ripping him apart. Harry was shaking next to him and he could just about hear the rest of his family sobbing over the ringing in his ears. Any minute now he was going to explode. Something had to stop him because he knew there was no way he could-

Her.

The hardest thing to keep away from him, the one thing he was drawn to above everything else... He had let her in as well. Although his eyes were still full of the sight of his older brother's grave, he could still feel her tiny hand being crushed by his. It must have been hurting her, but she made no complaint. His breaths were coming thick and fast now, painfully expanding his chest against his dress robes and everything was turning to black. He had to get out.

And then he was marching away without glancing back at anyone. Their eyes must have followed him, but Ron couldn't feel them. He couldn't feel anything right now except the hand he was dragging along with him. He hadn't even checked that she was the person the hand belonged to; Ron just knew.

When he finally felt that he was far enough away from his family, his friends and his brother's coffin, Ron spun around, catching Hermione off guard. She gasped as she stopped abruptly in front of him and had to hold onto the tree next to them to stop her losing her balance. Her face registered nothing but shock and Ron found he couldn't help. It wasn't that he didn't have any words; it's just that they were choking him.

Of course, as she always did, Hermione found something to say first.

"Sorry," she breathed, edging away as if she had followed him there of her own volition. "I-I can leave if you-"

"I'm sorry," Ron blurted out. Hermione's eyes widened a fraction as he swallowed and tried to think of something more substantial. "This week - I-I'm sorry. I'm - I'm sorry."

His words were nothing more than gasps, but they had some effect on Hermione. Her eyes, still red-rimmed from the service, filled with tears, but she did nothing to wipe them away. Instead she pulled Ron into a tight hug. The moment his arms were wrapped around her the knot in his chest loosened and nothing could stop him explaining.

"I wasn't okay and I didn't want you to see me like this so I just-" Ron broke off as his own eyes started to burn. "And you were around and I kept forgetting F-Fred and-and-"

"It's okay."

"It's not okay," he disagreed with a dry sob. He knew he must be screwing her clothes up, as his fists gripped the fabric in clumps, but Ron needed to hold her. He needed to keep her here because she should be walking away and he couldn't afford for that to happen.

"I've forgiven you for worse," she told him quietly. "This doesn't even need forgiving. This... this I understand."

She had found the words that soothed the pain of his loss, his regret and his guilt. There was no one else like her.

"I'm coming to Australia with you."

Even though his arms were locked around her, Hermione somehow managed to pull away and gawp at him, her mouth open, waiting for a response to fill it.

"Aust- Ron, I have no idea how or when-"

"Don't care," Ron cut in. "You're not going alone."

It could have been the offer that Ron himself had only just decided to make. It could have been the conviction in which he had made it. It could have been something else, the something he had no idea about, that made Hermione look at him the way she did, that made her kiss him during the battle...

"Thank you," she whispered. Her brown eyes flickered all over his face, as though searching for something, but Ron didn't know what. He knew that she seemed to be in shock - and in a good way - and that if there was another girl more beautiful than she was, then there was a man stupider than him for not noticing her sooner.

"I - er - still love you." He coughed awkwardly and it seemed to draw her attention back to him as she smiled, even though she was crying properly again.

"I still love you, too," she said with a smile. Ron felt the corners of his mouth twitch and ducked his head. He noticed that they were still holding each other and he started to lean in as she did the same.

The moment was ruined by several large explosions from the other side of the tree.

"What was that?" gasped Hermione. She went to take a step back to investigate, but Ron pulled back to him and rested his head atop of hers.

"Don't care," he mumbled. She didn't seem too bothered either. She had started tracing patterns along his back.

Ron began to wonder why everything couldn't be as simple as holding Hermione. He didn't have to turn the nonsense in his head into coherent sentences that wouldn't offend anyone. He didn't have to stop himself from fidgeting. He couldn't get distracted. When she was in his arms, with his eyes closed, she was world. Ron took a deep breath and felt the last of tension leave him as the scent of her hair filled him.

Except it was the usual smell, that he suspected was some kind of berry, but had never singled out which one. It was apple and Ron knew only one person who used apple shampoo.

"Is that my shampoo?"

Hermione tensed and Ron immediately knew he was right.

"I-I ran out so-" she stuttered, trying to pull away again. "I-I'll replace it, don't-"

"It's okay," Ron chuckled softly. "It is your job to nick my stuff." Hermione frowned at him in confusion so he added, "seeing as you're my girlfriend."

The frown melted, her lips parted ever so slightly and her hands snaked into his hair and began to pull him towards her. Just as Ron saw her eyes slip shut and he imitated her with a smile, there was another large explosion. This time it was followed by several screams.

Still on high alert after the war, both of them sprang apart and darted out from behind the tree, Hermione in the lead. They had barely reached for their wands when they both stopped abruptly and tried to make sense of what they were seeing.

"Is-" Hermione began before blinking several times. "Is that a _giraffe_?"

Ron watched as a large quadruped galloped across the field and towards the woods on the other side, Bill and Percy hot on it's heels, their wands raised.

"I think so."

They watched, hand in hand, as the rest on the congregation slowly came into view. His mother was screaming words he couldn't make out into the sky, his father's arm around her. George was roaring with laughter, Ginny squeezing him around the middle, before Charlie pulled him into a headlock.

"I miss him."

Although he wasn't looking at her when he said it, Ron sensed Hermione smile sadly.

"Something tells me he isn't completely gone," she shrugged simply and they watched on as a mother embraced her son, whose laughter had dissolved into tears.

* * *

_Thanks for reading :)_

_Confused by the sudden appearance of large mammals in this fic? Don't be! All is explained in The Latecomer, another one of my one-shots. Or just accept that this is a world of magic and this shit happens all the time._

_Talking of other stuff I've written, this is my 30th fic and I'm not sure how that happened. I just want to say thank you to everyone who has been a part of any of it, from the first reviewers of SSY, to any people who only just found this and clicked it because I have a silly name. _


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